Caged with the Enemy
by Late to the Party
Summary: Imoen's dead. Sarevok and Charname are left in Irenicus' cell. Who blames whom, and why?  More to the point: what happens next? And most important of all: who becomes the next Lord of Murder?  AU.
1. I

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own any of the names, characters, setting contained within. Bioware/Black Isle/Interplay does**. (I suppose 'technically' I own this version of charname, personality not name...)

**A/N:** This is not meant to be an epic saga, but rather an elongated character sketch. Writing without too many brushstrokes, as it were. As seems to be a running theme, does not like my double paragraphing, and I've given up trying to make it. If things seem to jump around... I apologise. I've taken to emboldening the beginnings of a new paragraph. I still find it an inelegant solution, but I dislike putting lines everywhere.

In any event, I hope this will still be enjoyable.

(As seems to be have become my pattern, this was written in the span of a day, as were the other ficlets). Comments welcome!

* * *

><p>I<p>

"You killed her!"

"Not I, dear sister, you."

**She was named** for her mother, who she was told, died shortly after giving birth to her. Aliana. Her father was the dead god Bhaal. For months she had been hunted by a man whose name she found out only a few days before they met in battle. That man was her half-brother and they fought for the same destiny. Now she sprawled, suspended in a cage, staring across a walkway at him. He didn't look so menacing without his armour.

The last time she had seen him she was on her knees, cradling her sister in her arms. Momentarily, the battle had stopped. Only as she breathed her last did Aliana learn the truth, that her best friend from childhood was family. As her sister turned to golden dust, Aliana looked up and saw her brother's glowing eyes frown. For a few seconds, there was stunned silence as the battle paused.

Imoen was gone.

**Aliana gave herself** wholly to the taint. Raw magical energy coursed through her, and blinded by tears, her eyes became golden like her brother's. She struck at the temple's supporting columns, blasting ancient stone drums and mortar to dust. Her brother surged forwards, but there was no escape. With a roar, the roof caved in.


	2. II

II

She watched him. He watched her. Their silence was broken by the creak as the cages swung. Hatred held her heart, pain gripped her. Head aching, she could focus only on Imoen's final moments. The sister she had not known was her sister. Her last sad smile, the fading light in her eyes. Then she was gone.

Aliana felt her blood rise, but the power was gone. No, repressed. The cage pressed down, blocking her magic. She began to reach down, to her sire's essence within her –

"Ah, the child of Bhaal has awoken."

She didn't listen to the rest. Her captor couldn't goad her more than he already had: alone with her foe, a few feet away, but unable to reach him…

Sarevok grunted. Magical energy struck him again and again.

Aliana's eyes never left her brother's; watching him suffer didn't even begin to soothe her fractured heart. Her masked tormentor meant nothing. His words meant nothing. His knives meant nothing. The pain was nothing. Guilt welled up inside of her. The truth cut deeper than any knife.

It was her fault Imoen was dead.


	3. III

III

How long had she been here? She couldn't remember. She had no means of tracking time. How long had it been since she last ate? Before Imoen… their last shared meal together… Aliana shook the memory away. She stared through the bars. Sarevok was breathing heavily. 'Brother' became a curse word more vile than any other she knew. A mockery. A reminder. It became the word of her foe. Thinking about it made her feel dirty. Defiled. Aliana winced inside. How long since she had bathed? She should have been filthy. Her natural bodily functions seemed suspended. Something kept her alive. Kept them both alive.

A trickle of blood ran down Sarevok's chin. He was wheezing. Aliana felt no pity. Sarevok had watched her suffer with the same stoic eyes she watched him with. She felt nothing for his suffering, no joy, no regret. It didn't matter how much pain he endured, how much she endured. Nothing would bring Imoen back.


	4. IV

IV

Darkness. Always darkness. Dreams. Memories. Pain lanced through her. It barely registered any more. Slowly, she squeezed her eyes open. Then cold reality kicked in.

Sarevok watched her. He never blinked. She ignored him. How long had she slept for? Shifting, she tried to get comfortable; she never could. Every muscle was cramped. Slowly, she tensed and released. Almost as a reflex, she worked through each limb, her neck, her back, her hands. It helped a little. As was her custom, she tested the magical wards, pushing against them with her mind. As always, they refused to yield. She was beginning to notice a pattern: her magic was inaccessible, but the masked one never came if she tried to break the wards. Only when she reached for her Bhaal powers did he come. Sometimes he arrived to perform his 'experiments', trying to find their 'potential'.

He would hurt her until she blacked out. Each time, she endured a little more. When he first began 'testing', she could not manage a tenth of what it took to put her out now.

The truth was she felt she deserved this one some level. Some part of her looked forward to it. Resisting his magic, overcoming the pain. Something deep inside her stirred, and she felt closer to her sire's essence. To the source of her power. It was raw, unshaped, but if she wanted to get out of here, she had to learn how to wield it, to master it.

Images appeared before her, visions of travelling with Imoen. A hobgoblin arrow piercing her friend's leathers… poisoned. Panic, desperation, a rush… somehow, she had halted the poison, and when they looked, the wound was healed. She tried to summon that state of mind every night after that. Slowly, she had begun to call it forward. It was different to using magic; rites, components, words, gestures… this was something else. Raw, indomitable will. She was a gateway stemming a river, focusing her need. A vast reservoir.

Her captor was trying to tap into her essence. Aliana wouldn't let him.


	5. V

V

His golden eyes were alive for the first time in… she wasn't sure how long. Then she heard it. Rumbling. The chain suspending her cage jolted. Fury gripped her. She wasn't prepared to die yet. She tried to focus her will.

"Stop." Sarevok's deep voice commanded her. "Listen."

Aliana ignored him.

"Fool!"

She was so close; she could feel the power building. It was like grains of sand pouring through her fingers and controlling the flow. Like gathering raindrops in her palm. She almost had enough… there was a barrier in her way. A mental block. Guilt. Self hatred. In the back of her mind, in her heart of hearts, she knew Imoen would have wanted her to live. She didn't deserve this any more than Imoen deserved to die.

Her power took form. He hadn't come. Why hadn't he come? Heart racing, she loosed her inner restraints, opening herself up fully. This is what her captor wanted, she knew, to have access to this. Somewhere in the distance, she heard footsteps. Hurried footsteps. A scream.

She might never have another chance. Take it, whatever remained of Imoen implored her. Yes, she had to get free. To live. For Imoen's death not to have been in vain.

The cage door flared white and shattered.


	6. VI

VI

Sarevok began to laugh. Contempt filled her stare. It was the laugh of a madman, driven by hysterics or sardonic acknowledgement of situational absurdity. She was the stronger. She escaped where he hadn't. Awkwardly, she landed on the walkway. Every muscle screamed. It took all her willpower to force it down. Countless times she stared at its railings. They were cold, real. It stung her bare feet. She turned her back on her brother.

Surprise and begrudging admiration filled his words as he called after her, "You truly are family."

She froze mid-step, shoulders stiffening. It was an effort just to stand. Her foster father's murderer was a mere two feet away, helpless. Out of the cage, she could feel her magic. There was nothing stopping her from taking revenge, from severing the chain above his cage.

Once she would have protested those words. Now she knew better.

Her hate had kept her alive.


	7. VII

VII

_The Lord of Murder shall perish, but in his death he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny. Chaos shall be sown in their passage. So sayeth the wise Alaundo._

The words rang through her head. She stood at the end of the walkway. More walkways stretched on into darkness. One turning led to a solid wall… and a door. She didn't know what lay beyond it. Sinking to her knees, she stared. Behind her, Sarevok waited in his cage. His laughter had finally ceased. Leaving him here was a death sentence. Mercy would have been to kill him. Justice and Revenge offered the same. Sarevok had taught her never to leave a foe behind her.

Pushing herself up with her palms, she walked forwards without looking back.

The door wouldn't budge. It was stuck fast. Panic spread from the pit of her stomach to her throat. She was free of the cage, but freedom was only as fleeting as her ability to stay free. She took a step back. There had to be another door. Cautiously, she made her way along the walkway. After some distance, it ended in another locked door. Aliana could have screamed. She tried the other end. It just… stopped. Darkness below her, around her.

She didn't want to, but she had to go back by the cages. Every second she delayed here meant a greater chance her captor would return.

…Unless this was part of his 'experiments'. No, she couldn't think like that. Test or not, she had to try. The alternative was to spend the rest of her days in that cage, however long that was. Now she was out, she never wanted to go back. Setting her chin, she drew in a deep breath and walked back.

"Lost, little sister?" Sarevok's voice was heavily laden with irony.

Answering would have meant acknowledging his taunt. Defiantly, she moved past the cages. It still hurt to walk, but it was a good pain. Protesting muscles meant at least they were working. The walkway branched into two here. Opposite directions. She turned left. Heart in her throat, she made her way along. That one ended in empty cages. This wasn't happening.

She tried the other end. A locked door. Hysteria crept into her. Had she thought it would really be so easy to escape? She had to try the doors again. Knowing she wasn't strong enough, and knowing she hadn't prepared the necessary spells, she had two choices. Blast them with her sire's essence, if she could manage to summon it again, or rest. Even if she did rest, she still lacked her spellbook.

There was a third option, but she didn't like to consider it.

Sarevok's eyes followed her. After a while, she slumped outside the first door. If she was going to rot in her, she would at least make sure Sarevok never got free. Their captor would focus everything on her, but it would 'unlock' her 'potential' faster or kill her. She forced herself up.

"So little sister, have you finally decided to finish it?"

She couldn't look away. His gaze mocked her. She hated him. She hated him more than anyone else… except herself. When she looked at him, the truth burned into her. She could lie as much as she wanted until she saw his face. The words spilled out of her, the denial, "I'm not you. I'm never you."

"Oh, but you are."

The rejoinder stung. Numbly she shook her head.

"Murder is written in your heart, into your very being. It is written across your face. But you are weak."

"I hate you!"

"Then finish it!" Gold flashed.

Stepping backwards, Aliana found herself sitting down. Disgust returned, along with the hint of self-satisfaction, as if he knew the answer all along. His eyes closed as he sank back. He was right. Tormented, she tried to gather her reeling thoughts. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, "It should have been you, or me, not her!"

"Heh," He rumbled. "That much we agree on."

Slowly she nodded.

"Though I would have killed her anyway."

"You bastard… To think I offered you a chance to live…"

"It was your spell, sister."

She turned away, then spun back, "Tamoko was wrong about you."

Sarevok didn't answer but fury lit his eyes.

"This will never be over," she vowed, "I won't ever forgive you."

"Then end it."

Reviled, she studied him. He wasn't afraid. Slowly, she shook her head, hating herself as never before. "No. We finish it when we are the last two left."

Now he studied her. "What do you propose? That we ally? Heh. What makes you think I'd agree to such a thing?"

She refused to answer.

"I will trust you, little sister. Heh."

"Swear it? That we won't…" She drew in a deep breath. Why was she even considering this?

"By our Father's throne."

"By our Father's throne," Trembling, she repeated, and whatever strength she had left ebbed away.


	8. VIII

VIII

The cage door shattered. Sarevok was free. It took everything she had to stand her ground. The monster in human form advanced. She barely reached his shoulder; his arms were thicker than her thighs.

He halted in front of her, then lifted her up by the throat. For a moment, she expected him to throw him over the railing.

"You – you promised."

"So I did." Then he set her down and laughed, "Come. We have a score to settle."

"Sarevok…?"

He turned.

"Why'd you do it?" Aliana felt very small, very, very small, "Why'd you make me come after you?"

"Gorion was my revenge."

"Revenge?"

"For choosing you."

As if he hadn't been caged, he walked away.

**His grunt was low,** but he wasn't as strong as he once was. Even under his might, the door barely budged. But it had shuddered. He put his shoulder to it again. And again. And again. Then it swung open. There was no laughter or acknowledgement of this triumph, only the wary eyes of a trained killer.

With practiced ease, he stepped into the chamber. It took her three steps to his one, and she hurried behind him. Peeking around him, she glimpsed a rounded table in the centre of the room. It was covered with… stuff. Sweeping every nook and cranny in one, Sarevok decided there were no foes nearby and rifled through the 'junk'.

"Bah," Growling, he cast most of it aside. Aliana noted he had divided it into piles and took care not to let it clatter to the floor. Then her heart sank.

"These are…"

"Pathetic."

"No, look–"

"I can see." It wasn't quite a snarl.

"Angelo's belt… gods…"

"You noticed his belt?" Sarevok barked a low laugh.

"How could I miss it?" She smiled weakly, then stopped. He was the enemy. Hardening herself, a flash of irritation caught her. He seemed _amused_. Again she reminded herself that she needed him. Neither of them were capable of holding their own if one of their siblings came after them. Only together… she hated it. Hated him. Why was she standing so close?

Expressionlessly, he held out a book.

"This… this isn't mine."

His jaw tightened.

Swallowing, she took it unwillingly. She had to stop herself from dropping it. It once belonged to Cythandria, Sarevok's former lover. It was filled with vile, _vile_ spells. Necromancy. Sarevok turned his unsettling gaze back to the pile and grunted to himself.

Peering around him, she managed, "Are my rings there?"

"No."

Her heart sank. She loved her rings. She even made a necklace from one. Another she had magically shrunk to an earring. It wasn't just her things that were missing, but Sarevok's too. In fact… there were only a few possessions she recognised. Where were the rest of her effects?

Reflectively, her fingers began securing the spellbook to her belt. The weight felt wrong, but good. She couldn't remember her spells, only fragments. Now she thought on it, she couldn't remember much at all. "Brother?"

He looked at her.

"I… I need to rest." That wasn't what she was about to say, but she set her chin.

"Not here."

"Of course not here!" Another reminder of the urgency of their situation, but only fools rushed in. They needed to be careful. "The noise… it's stopped."

Sarevok didn't reply, but begrudgingly pulled a scimitar from the pile. His sleeveless tunic was badly torn, almost as badly as her robe, and his wide belt lacked a scabbard. Silently, he fastened two daggers, and offered her a spear. It was taller than she was, and if their prison was made up of walkways it would be useless. She hesitated a moment before accepting it. It gave her something to lean on if nothing else.

"What about the belt?"

Aliana decided that a grunt was her brother's favourite answer. After a moment, she looped it around her waist. If they ever got out of here, it might be worth a few coins. There was nothing else here. It didn't make sense there be a chamber so close to the cages and only one door…

Sarevok obviously thought the same and was examining the walls. A satisfied grunt and a shove, and a hidden door slid open. Ascending stairs. Wetting her lips, she gripped her spear and followed.


	9. IX

IX

"This place…" Aliana stared in awe, "it's beautiful."

Even Sarevok was inclined to agree, she decided. His eyes had softened slightly, though they were still alert. For a moment, she almost forgot where she was.

"Oh!" Delighted, she lovingly ran her finger along the tome's spine. "And here, look!" Carefully she gathered them off the shelf, oblivious to the fact her disturbance might be noted. She wished she had her rucksack, or one of her pouches.

She realised she couldn't take them. With a sigh, she replaced them.

Sarevok waited for her, then moved on. She had to jog to catch up. Opening her mouth, she clamped it shut. She had been about to ask if there were any books he liked as a child. The library's wonder was lost.

**It was like watching from the outside.** The forge was littered with the dead. Men with their knives still in their hands, grey dwarves with their axes. Sarevok lifted up one of survivors, a wounded dwarf and slowly began to crush his throat.

The Duergar spat in his face; it was a mistake with terrible consequences. Still holding him by the throat, Sarevok carried the struggling dwarf to the forge.

Aliana couldn't look; her brother's hand covered the dwarf's mouth, but nothing could stop the smell.

"Tell me," Sarevok growled, then plunged the dwarf down into the coals. She ran outside to keep watch…

**Minutes later, Sarevok joined her.** Thrust through his belt was a Duergar axe, and a broadsword hung over one shoulder. In his hand, he grasped a short poleaxe. She didn't like to ask about the scimitar. He held out two daggers. His own collection of knives seemed to have drastically increased. The sight of them made bile rise and burn her tongue, but the narrow passages they walked through demanded them. One went through her belt. If she had boots, one would have gone up there, or in her sleeve if she had something to fasten it…

Her eyes were drawn to the dead. It took her a moment to realise that Sarevok was no longer bare foot. Dwarfs were short, but stocky. It must pinch, but his discomfort didn't bother her in the slightest. Padding over to one of the dead men, she frowned. Nondescript clothing, a jerkin over a tunic, trousers, boots… people in Baldur's Gate didn't wear this style.

"Where are we?"

"Perceptive." Was that a note of admiration? "Amn perhaps, or Tethyr."

"I don't understand," she admitted squatting down, "he isn't one of us. The prophecies said nothing about this…"

Sarevok considered this. She expected a harsh retort, but she was met with silence. Slowly, she began to strip the body, forcing herself not shudder. It wasn't cold or stiff yet. She bound the dagger to her left forearm, and appropriated his boots. His socks she left. Trying not to think about how disgusting it was, she cut his tunic into strips and bound the boots tightly. When she stood, Sarevok was looking at her oddly. Then he walked away.


	10. X

X

"A djinni?"

"We can't leave until we destroy it."

Aliana hesitated, "Couldn't we just send it back to its home plane?"

"That's what I said."

"Brother, wait – please." She hated herself for using that word, but it had the desired effect. "I can't help without rest."

The noise in the back of his throat was unintelligible. She tried using reason, "A djinni will be powerful…"

"You are weak, little sister."

"So are you!" She flared, "Or you'd never have been taken!" Involuntarily, she took a step back, then braced herself.

"You test my patience."

His back turned and suddenly she could breath again. Chasing after him left her breathless, and to her horror, she realised she was tiring. Then she noticed his stride wasn't as fast as it had been earlier. She grabbed his arm; he spun, murder in his eyes.

She shook her head, "Listen."

He frowned. After several moments, he growled, "I hear nothing."

"Exactly."

For that, he shook her off. As he moved off again, she stamped her foot.

"Will you _listen_?" She had to run to catch him, "I'm sure I heard water. Now I don't."

He didn't stop.

"Where are the windows?" Persistently, she kept up, "And the damp smell? I think we're underground."

"Keep quiet."

About to protest, she thought better of it. Then she heard it; faint noises. She let him go on ahead. Getting in his way would only distract him. As quietly as she could, she crept forwards. The sound of death reached her. By the time she reached the carnage, Sarevok stood alone. He was not pleased. It took her a moment to see why. A nasty gash along his arm, where a knife just clipped him. There were no dwarves, only more of the humans lay sprawled, spitted and crashed by her brother's poleaxe.

"Why…?"

"Their necks," he growled.

Bite marks. Her sharp intake of breath didn't stop her knees from trembling.

"So this is how…" She shook her head, "I don't remember."

"You brought down the roof."

"Then what?"

"We woke up here."

"Brother please… we need to rest."

He stared balefully at her.

"You're no use to me if you die." Coldly, she nodded at his arm, "You never would have been marked."

The growl in the back of his throat warned her, but instead of heeding it, she stepped forwards, "If you challenge the djinni when you're as weak as a gibberling–"

His hand gripped her throat. "Have a care, little sister."

She struggled, "Our promise."

Releasing her, he looked around. Then he chose a direction.

**The chamber was filled with glass jars.** Jars that were larger than she was. All of them were filled with a strange liquid. Some had shapes in, human shapes. She didn't want to look. Sarevok declined from commenting, but ventured on. Trying not to see, she followed. Finally, they found a storeroom. Crates stacked as high as the ceiling filled it.

Aliana studied the floor. By now, she had no strength left to argue. With a grunt, Sarevok looked around, and allowed, "We rest. For an hour."

Nodding, she walked behind the crates and slumped down. Propping his weapons up, Sarevok sat as if in meditation.

"I'm cold…"


	11. XI

XI

She awoke to warmth. It took her a moment to remember where she was. Her eyes closed. Sarevok's arms adjusted as she shifted. Too exhausted to care, the storeroom's stone was only slightly firmer than her brother. Curled in his lap, she had spent her first warm sleep in she didn't know how long. She should have taken one of the jerkins from the dead, but she didn't need the extra weight.

Aliana didn't remember how she ended up on him, but somewhere in her sleep, she felt his hand against her hair. Had she imagined it? Tamoko had mentioned how much he loved Cythandria's hair, but her hair had been black, like Aliana's own. Sleepily, she reached up and traced her finger across part of his shoulder, "I gave you that."

He didn't answer.

She smiled, "but not that one." Touching his jaw resulted in him firmly catching her wrist.

"Enough."

Looking up at him, she sighed. Everywhere still hurt, though most of it ached.

**The djinni was amused.** "Is that what he said? I am a prisoner too."

Sarevok hefted his poleaxe.

Aliana grabbed his arm, "Listen," she hissed, "he may know something."

Although it was obvious he heard, the djinni offered them a riddle instead. Sarevok's answer would have done little without their sire's essence powering it. His hand closed around the recoiling djinni's throat.

"Answer my question."

"Wish us the way out," Aliana chipped in, "return our effects, and strip our captor of his power and put him at our feet?"

Sarevok glowered at her.

"What?" She glared back, "He wouldn't be so stupid as to just let someone wish him dead with his own djinni."

"I could…" The djinni began the bartering.

"In exchange for your miserable life." Sarevok's fingers squeezed.

"You do have me at somewhat of a disadvantage, Bhaalling…"

"And our siblings. Can we wish them dead too?"

"I am forbidden–"

"What about stripping them of their effects and putting them all in a room together? Or in a room that is about to fall in?"

"Quiet!" Sarevok growled, "You, tell me who our captor is."

"Don't wish that!"

"I'm not wishing."

"Irenicus–"

"Riddle me again…"

"'Shattered One'," the djinni was not intimidated until Sarevok's eyes began to pulse. Against a god's power, even a dead god's, he would be destroyed. "I can give you some of what you ask. If–"

"Time's up."

"Brother!"

"I need my flask! He has it with his dryads–"

"Too bad for you, heh."

"Stop it!" Aliana tugged at his arm, "He's not use to us destroyed." She turned back to the djinni, "Can you bring the dryads here?"

"I can."

"Do so." It was her command, not Sarevok's.

The djinni's magic covered the room like mist. Three beautiful dryads stood where none had been an instant ago.

"The djinni's flask," she told them, "we need it."

They stared at her, then uncertainly at Sarevok. "We cannot."

"Then you die."

"Stop that! We don't have to kill everything, you know!" Taking a deep breath, she tried, "Why not?"

"We are forbidden."

"He'll harm our trees."

"Yes! We mustn't let him."

Helplessly she stared at them, "This is getting us nowhere. I didn't say you could kill him!" Another deep breath, "is there a way to save your trees? Couldn't we wish them planted somewhere else? Somewhere where he couldn't hurt them?"

"Yes!" All three chimed as one.

"Then you'll hand over the djinni's flask?"

They conferred with themselves.

"Why should we trust you?"

"Because if you don't, my brother will kill the djinni." She didn't need to look at him to know the truth of it, "and then he'll cut you into pieces and break your trees."

"Heh."

"And if you don't, I'll help him." Aliana held out her hand.

Reluctantly, the most vocal of the trio waved and mist covered her. Then she handed over an elegantly carved flask.

"Now," Aliana addressed the djinni, "if you don't do what I want, I'll break it."

Sarevok growled.

She waved him to quiet, "First: I want our effects returned. All of them. Second: I want our captor stripped of power and his effects and put in the third jar in the next room. Third: I want our all our siblings to be exposed for what they are: Bhaalspawn–"

"I can't–"

"Fourth: You will take us out of here, plant the trees somewhere swear and make it impossible for anyone to wish us dead, or curse us. Fifth: you will stop anyone entering the room with the jar you put Irenicus in. Sixth: you will vow not to take revenge on us, directly, indirectly, or otherwise."

"Anything else?" Sarevok growled.

"A kitten would be nice. A sweet-tempered one."

His eyes bulged.

"Can you bring back our dead?"

"I cannot."

"Well, what's the use of a wish then?" Aliana demanded irrationally, "I ask for simple things, and you say no."

"Everything but the Bhaalspawn and acting against the master–"

"Not enough. You'll have to do better than that."

"Riches, power, glory?" The djinni asked hopefully.

"Not interested."

"Wait." Sarevok interrupted, "What sort of power?"

"Brother!" She snapped, "We have our own power. We don't need other peoples'."

He considered that.

"I want my knowledge restored. Both our knowledge. And the spells I had returned."

Helplessly the djinni tried to explain; Aliana cut him short.

"Fine. If you can't do that, and can't help us in the outcome of the prophecies, put us where we can fulfil them." She took a menacing step towards him, "And I want your flask. You will heed me when I call. You can stay in your home plane until then."

Sarevok began to laugh.


	12. XII

XII

Escape. They had escaped. They were alone, the two of them. Among other things, Aliana had demanded the djinni heal them of their wounds, and her body no longer ached. In a moment of vanity, she had insisted her scars be mended, and in an act of spite, ordered three powerful dragons be sent after Irenicus. A geas, she declared, they would attack the first masked person they see, and they be blinded until they saw Irenicus. Then she had added that the dragons must never know who ordered this.

The djinni tried to explain that wishes didn't work that way, that there were rules…

Sarevok's glowing eyes convinced him. Together, they had watched through the flask as three dragons, a silver, red and a black, attacked a large wooden house on an island. Irenicus appeared outside and no amount of sorcery could overcome three dragons all at once. They watched as their masked captor was burned to ash.

"Heh."

Aliana clung to Sarevok's arm, "Where to now, brother?"

"Saradush. It is there we must go." He regarded her coolly, "Do you not know the prophecies?"

"I do." She smiled brilliantly at him, "but I wanted to hear what you thought."

He grunted.

"I got us back our things." Tapping her lip, she mused, "Perhaps I should have asked for an army." Then she swung from his arm and spun giddily, "I'm _so_ glad to have my robe back! And my rings! Doesn't it feel nice to have your armour back?" She sniffed critically, "It still stinks."

A low growl.

"You're not a dog," Aliana noted. She still hated him, but she could overlook that now she was herself again. At least momentarily. In light green embroidered with gold over inner robes of white, grey leggings and sandy brown boots, she stood in start contrast to his black plate and its spikes.

Idly, she traced the runes across the edge and hem, and the chain holding her spellbook, and her small leather pack. Along the strap were her potions, and her long hair was braided just the way she liked it: a crown that kept it free from her face while the rest fell loose. After a bath, courtesy of the djinni, she finally felt human.

Numerous daggers tucked themselves away; one strapped to each thigh, one in each boot, one to each forearm, three in her belt, one down the front of her chest and one between her shoulders. It was something she and Imoen worked out.

"You know," she added after thinking for a bit, "What were you going to do once you plunged the Sword Coast into war? Baldur's Gate would have lost against Amn, wouldn't it? Amn's bigger, richer, and has more mages."

"I wouldn't have lost."

"Well, I suppose, but when you won, what then?"

"Hunt down the rest."

"Oh." She tilted her head to one side, "but why go to war in the first place? The prophecies say our brothers and sisters will raise their own armies; as Grand Duke, couldn't you have just responded to that?"

"Enough."

"What's wrong, Brother? Don't like hearing the truth?" Defiantly, she leaned forwards, "Do you regret sacrificing everyone close to you?"

He stepped in; she darted backwards.

"Oh no Brother, we have an agreement. You heard what the djinni said. There are five of them. You need me."

"Then be still."

"Or what? You're not a wilful child, are you? Throw a fit when you don't get your way?"

His hand snatched her; she laughed, her eyes cruel.

"I'm not scared of you."

"Good." His smile was chilling, "When I drive my sword through you, you'll remember this day."

"Is that what you told Tamoko?" She asked, stroking his mailed fingers, "She's gone, Brother. You killed her."

He pulled her to his face; she kissed him. His eyes widened and he dropped her.

"We're even now."

He turned and walked towards Saradush.


	13. XIII

XIII

Gromnir was the first to fall. Him and his lackeys. They did not even bother to take notice of those he had gathered around him. They had disguised themselves, and petitioned the ruler of Saradush for an audience. Then they had struck. Throwing back his hooded cloak, Sarevok's sword flashed. It drank the court mage's blood first, and Aliana unleashed the first of her spells. Blinding light stunned all but her, but Sarevok was prepared for it. His were the only eyes that closed.

What followed next was carnage. While Sarevok engaged Gromnir, Aliana slaughtered the others in bursts of fire, acid and ice. Lightning arced from her finger tips, and then she whispered the words that shattered them. One of the questions she had asked the djinni had been: "When Irenicus is dead, are you still obliged not to grant me his effects?"

The djinni had delivered Irencius' spellbook and notes. She was close to understanding how the mage intended to unlock their potential. At first, she hadn't understood, and reluctant to show Sarevok, begrudgingly conceded he could be of use. Before meeting Gromnir, the two put their heads together, and between them began to decipher Irencius' plan. It was what the mage had not written down that puzzled them. Having the djinni on hand to ask helped, but a love for the scholarly drove them.

Now their shared goal bound them. She had slain five Bhaalspawn. Sarevok's sword, the same sword he wielded against her, broke Gromnir's mace. Still blinded, the half orc swung wildly. The tip of Sarevok's sword pierced him. With a brutal tug, the former Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate ripped the blade loose and beheaded their brother.

Gold dust floated around them, filled them.

Sarevok's chilling laugh echoed, "Do you not feel it, sister? This is our father's work! Do you not feel alive?"

Aliana did feel it. She felt sickened. Forcing down her twisting stomach, she fixed a coy smile to her face and sauntered over to him, "You were magnificent, brother."

Still laughing, Sarevok took her in his arms, and through the gap in his visor, she made her lips touch his. Caught in the bloodlust's thrill, he returned it hotly.

"Not here," she took his hand, stroked it and pulled her head back, "we have an army to seize."

"Bah! Let them come!" He made to kiss her again, "I was wrong about you, sister."

Her lips were cool, "Reconsidered? Do we not make a fine team?"

"Yes," The warrior laughed, "Yes!"

"Tamoko told me all about you…" She breathed, leaning to kiss his armoured neck, "how no woman could wish for more."

He froze, then growled, "Do not speak her name."

"Why not, brother?" Smiling at him, Aliana artfully curled her hair around her finger, "Shouldn't we be honest? She wanted me to save you, save you from yourself…" She pressed the same finger to his lips, "but what do I, a mere maiden know? She was the warrior."

His golden eyes blazed.

"She told me many things." Pushing her face close to his, she breathed in his warmth, his perspiration flooding her nostrils, "She wanted there to be peace between us, Brother. She isn't with us, but you and I are." Her eyes drifted to Gromnir's throne, "I envy you, brother. You were a weapon forged for this; I was a sheltered, silly girl. Tamoko showed me what a woman should be. Will you?"

She couldn't read his expression. Then his eyes caught hers, and scoping her up, carried her to Gromnir's throne.

Helpless in his lap, Aliana laughed, "Brother!"

His answer was a kiss so passionate it left her feeling more defiled than anything Irenicus had done.

She pulled back, "Not in your armour! Claim this town, raise your banner. Call your followers to war. Then…" Her finger pulled his lower lip, "claim your prize."


	14. XIV

XIV

That night was a night unlike any other. Tamoko was right. More right than she had known. Aliana understood why the warrioress longed for Sarevok the man. It had taken more killing to set his blood aflame again, but some of the town resisted as she knew it would. This was the debt she owed, she had decided. She remembered his warmth as she cowered in Irenicus' dungeon, cold and afraid.

He had breathed Tamoko's name into her hair, but it did not matter; it only brought a smile. Afterwards, she had lain in his arms, pressed against him. In the morning, she had bathed, and coyly invited him to join her. They had poured over Irenicus' notes after that, and were another step closer to unlocking their 'potential'. Gromnir's army was in shambles, but Sarevok initiated a harsh regime that toughened them up. Those that failed died.

News of an approaching army only put terror in their hearts; it was on that, she and Sarevok had sought an audience with Gromnir. Now Sarevok was in command, they bided their time, and within the month Yaga-Shura's host was in sight. They quit the town under cover of darkness. The fire giant did not expect an attack from an inferior force, but what they lacked in number, they made up for in fear. Fear of what Sarevok had promised for their families if they should fail.

Unleashing terrible and devastating magic, Aliana chanted Irencius' spells. Augmented by her sire's essence, she slaughtered wave after wave buying time for Sarevok to butcher his way to the fire giant. Yaga-Shura the 'invincible' found himself faced with an avatar of their dead sire. Between them, Aliana and Sarevok had unlocked their 'potential'. Matching the giant in size, the avatar tore the warlord to pieces, the Ravager's claws overcoming the foul magic Yaga-Shura had protected himself with. As the golden dust floated, Sarevok's laughter startled both sides so much the fighting stopped.

Aliana offered an ultimatum: the survivors join them or join the fire giant in death.

Returning to his human form, Sarevok took her over the place they had felled Yaga-Shura, still laughing and impassioned. The armies were too terrified to watch, and those who dared were slaughtered by their comrades for fear of what the mad Bhaalspawn would do.

The assassin came for them in the night. Illasera. One of their sisters. As the Ravager, Sarevok tore off her head and devoured her. The wards Aliana set alerted them to the presence of others. Guards, servants and foes alike shared the same fate – unless Aliana intervened. Blood called out for blood, and with each kill, Sarevok's blood heated. Their siblings' deaths stoked in him a fire nothing would cool. She denied him her maids' lives, but warned the town they should know better. No one dared disturb them after that.

Five armies gathered. Four belonged to the Bhaalspawn. The fifth belonged to Tethyr and was crushed by the combined might of Abazigal and Sendai. Utterly devastated, the survivors made it as far as Sarevok's camp and were given a choice. Aliana promised them their lives in exchange for their loyalty. She told them her mercy was not Sarevok's and if they spurned it, they would face the Terror of the Sword Coast. This was the title Sarevok took, and the few bedraggled soldiers readily agreed.

Much as she disliked it, Sarevok had taken to crucifying those who dared stand against him. After the first dozen, the message soon spread. Aliana had ordered they be put out of their misery, but the point was made. A worse punishment stood for those who broke camp law.

Between Aliana's 'mercy' and Sarevok's 'justice', many swarmed to their side rather than flee. The price of fleeing was the same as standing against them.

In battle, Sarevok became the Ravager and ranks of soldiers became as sandcastles before the incoming sea. Aliana knew how to assume the avatar, but chose not to. When Balthazar sent his force against them, hoping to draw them into the open, he found to his woe how gravely he underestimated the Ravager. Sarevok ripped off each of his limbs before biting off his head. With the death of its leader, the army shattered.

Abazigal did not stand idle, and the blue dragon swooped down to face the Ravager; at the same time, Sendai engaged the former host of Yaga-Shura and Gromnir's guard. Leading both her and Abazigal's warriors against Aliana, the two engaged in a titanic battle of wills. The combined might of both sides drew back, and just as it looked like Sendai was winning, Aliana took the Ravager's form. Sendai died screaming.

Over the fleeing horde Aliana climbed, scattering all out from under her. Ahead of her, Sarevok battled Abazigal. The blue dragon was five times the size of the avatar, but when the dragon was on all fours, the avatar was of a height with its head. The two tore into each other, lightning, teeth and claws against the four clawed limbs of the avatar. Both were bleeding heavily before Aliana reached them; two of Sarevok-Avatar's limbs hung uselessly, but Abazigal's wing was destroyed, and he was gashed down one side. Aliana's appearance finished the duel. Unable to face both at once, the dragon made the mistake of turning his head; Sarevok tore out his throat.

Laughing, Sarevok returned to human form.

"We have done it sister!"

Aliana joined him with a smile, "Are you sure? There might be more out there."

"Then we shall hunt them down!"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She gestured towards the routing armies.

"Destroy them!" Sarevok bellowed, twisting to wave his sword.

"Brother?"

He turned back.

Her knife bit into him, its poison paralysing him. Poison from Cythandria's spellbook. With a sharp tug, she pulled it free. "For Imoen."

Sarevok broke into golden dust.


End file.
